Arms of Promise

by Crystal Walton

  From the first time he ever came home on leave, he knew he couldn’t handle this role. But falling short on his promise wouldn’t stop gnawing at him. He had to find a way . . .

  A thump rumbled from inside, followed by the deadbolt clicking open. He straightened.

  Anna peeked through the door with her brows knit together. “Sorry.”

  “For what?” He almost tripped over Bailey at his feet.

  “For losing track of time.” Anna rolled a yoga-ball-turned-chair under a desk in the corner, closed her laptop, and kicked a fuzzy pair of owl-patterned slippers out of the middle of the floor. “I stopped to check the mail on my way home from the studio and got sidetracked. I meant to be ready by the time you got here.”

  A cluster of envelopes beside the computer grabbed his attention. Probably unpaid bills stacking up. No wonder she seemed frazzled. Collection notices were the last thing she needed on top of her fast-approaching rent deadline. If she weren’t so stubborn, he’d take care of them for her.

  Bailey sprang to the desk and nestled beside the laptop. Trying to keep warm, no doubt. Evan glanced at the thermostat—sixty-four. Couldn’t blame her.

  Anna spun around with her fingers threaded through her hair as though trying to pinpoint what to do next. “Drinks.” She whisked past him into the kitchen and rummaged through a cabinet. “I wanted to make us something to take along. Is hot chocolate okay? Or I can brew coffee.”

  She stretched on her toes to reach a top shelf. The bottom of a loose-fitting green sweater crept above a pair of tight gray pants.

  Why did his training have to give him such heightened senses? Even from here, he could smell hints of her herbal shampoo and hear the soft fabric moving against the sliver of bare skin along the small of her back.

  “What do you think?”

  That this was a very bad idea.

  “Hot chocolate?”

  As if he needed anything else to increase his body temperature right now.

  Anna turned when he didn’t answer. Her gaze ping-ponged from his fixed stare down to her outfit. If her cheeks felt anywhere near as warm as his did, she did better at hiding it.

  She left two travel mugs on the counter and tugged on the hem of her sweater. “I haven’t had a chance to change yet. It’ll take me two seconds. Can you grab a few clementines from the fridge to take with us?”

  “Sure.” And climb in the freezer while he was at it.

  Anna glided by him and disappeared down the hallway.

  Before he turned, a logo from the papers on her desk jumped off the page. Rush University Medical Center. He scanned the bill. Looked like something for Megan. An ER visit. The pneumonia.

  His chest sank as Anna’s words from the other day blazed to mind. “I had an unexpected bill come up six months ago.” A bill that wasn’t even hers. For all the concern Anna carried in her heart for others, how could there be none left for herself?

  Evan dropped the page and plowed to the refrigerator. Aside from the basics, a box of clementines, and a container of leftovers, bare shelves looked back at him.

  “How old is this Chinese food?” he called down the hall.

  “What Chinese food?” she yelled back.

  Evan lifted the lid and smelled the Asian mixture. Surprisingly decent. “Whatever this noodle concoction is.” Leaving the door open, he twisted when she shuffled around the corner in dark jeans and a fitted button-up flannel shirt. As usual, she made casual look gorgeous.

  “Oh, that’s pancit. Mrs. Santos from across the hall made it for me. I watch her adorable shih-poo when she’s out of town.”

  “Is she out of town now?”

  “No, why?”

  “I didn’t hear any barking when I came up.”

  Anna angled her head at him. “Some owners actually train their dogs, you know.”

  Like that ever stopped a yapper. “So, you watch her dog, and she pays you in food.”

  She shrugged. “She’s my neighbor. It’s the right thing to do. And it’s a really good dish. You should try it.”

  “Not the point.” Evan returned the container to the shelf. “You have bills piling up. Your kitchen’s empty.”

  “I’m waiting for my next paycheck. And it’s not empty.”

  He cocked his chin. “Clementines don’t count.”

  “Sure they do.” Anna leaned around him, tossed three into a handbag, and nudged him in the shoulder with it. “You shouldn’t neglect your immune system. Especially this time of year. They’re actually great for strengthening your bones and muscles, believe it or not. And vitamin C is amazing for your skin. You . . .” Meeting his gaze, she curled her lip in but couldn’t stop an embarrassed smile from pushing through. “. . . probably don’t need to know all that. I’m gonna stop talking now.”

  Too late. It’d floor him if she could get any cuter.

  He set a hand on her arm when she turned toward the empty mugs on the counter. “We’ll pick something up on the way.”

  “Okay.” A soft smile played on her lips. “Did you remember your camera?”

  “Yeah.” Evan rubbed his neck. “Though, I have to warn you. I’m out of practice. Doubt the shots will be any good.”

  “It doesn’t matter how long an artist sets his paintbrush down. The minute he picks it up, the world becomes a canvas again.” A matter-of-fact look met him dead in the eyes.

  Before he could find his voice, Anna bent to a bottom cabinet and swiped a can of cat food.

  He grinned. “I’ll buy you lunch, too. Don’t worry.”

  “Very funny.” She returned his smirk while heading toward her coat on a hook beside the door.

  Anna pulled on a knit hat with puffy balls hanging from the strings and opened the door. He followed her outside. But instead of going to his car, she circled the corner toward a parking lot behind the building.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To take care of a friend.” She approached an eighteen-gallon Rubbermaid tote beside the dumpster and popped open the can of cat food.

  A dingy-looking orange tabby with uneven whiskers scurried through a square hole carved into the side of the container.

  “Come here, you.” Anna picked him up, nuzzled her nose against his, and set him and the food down.

  “What is that?”

  “An impossible-to-turn-down kitty.”

  Evan’s lips tightened. “I meant the tote.”

  She lifted the lid. “A makeshift shelter. It has a Styrofoam cooler and a layer of hay inside for insulation.” She knelt beside a series of oil stains while the stray wolfed down the food. “It’s the best I could do for him. I found the little guy a few weeks back, scrounging around the dumpster. Thinking of him being out here in the winter about killed me, but I can only have one cat in the apartment.”

  Evan took in the sight of her, kneeling on the cold ground beside a destitute animal everyone else overlooked. The woman never failed to give without hesitation. But if she wasn’t careful, life’s unforgiving realities would squelch that gift of compassion right out of her. And having to watch that happen would pulverize him.

  “There’ll always be strays, Anna. As sad as that is, you can’t change the way things are.”

  Tender yet headstrong eyes met his. “I can try.” She shifted her weight but not her gaze. “I know what you’re thinking. And I get it. The world’s a dark place. But that doesn’t mean I can’t add color to it.” Anna ran a loving stroke down the cat’s back and up his tail. “Otherwise, I mean, what’s the point of all this?”

  A knot in his throat blocked his voice from coming out. She sounded so much like her mom.

  The mangy cat licked his lips and walked his front paws up her knee. Anna leaned her nose down to his. “And who can turn down this face? Isn’t he a cutie?”

  Was that what she called it? “He’s missing a chunk of his ear.”

  “Battle wounds. They build character.” She rubbed a finger over a streak of white fur on the top of the cat’s head.
“Isn’t that right, Strider?”

  “Strider?” Evan hiked a brow at her.

  She pushed up on her thighs to stand. “Well, he is kind of a ranger. Though, I’m not sure if he’s from the North.”

  Evan cracked a laugh. “I think you’ve watched Lord of the Rings one too many times.”

  “No such thing.” A playful grin led her toward him. “Speaking of rangers. I might just start calling you Strider, too.” Studying him, Anna lifted her cool fingers to the hairline above his ear. “I thought army guys were supposed to be clean-cut.”

  “Spec ops guys tend to get a little slack in regulations.”

  She feigned a look of being impressed. “Well, aren’t you special?”

  He rubbed his jawline.

  Her sweet laugh succumbed to a pensive expression. “You are. You know that, right? Special, I mean.”

  Not like her. Standing this close, Evan couldn’t help being enveloped by it. Her strength, compassion. There was no way he could move home and stand by her side without letting her know he wanted to experience every part of life with her.

  Evan blinked away, afraid she’d see the tension escalating behind his eyes. “Anna—”

  “Miss Madison?”

  They both turned toward Megan strolling around the corner.

  Anna’s face paled. “You were supposed to wait for us at the rec center.”

  “I got bored.” Megan jogged the rest of the distance separating them.

  Anna zipped up Megan’s soiled coat and pulled the hood over her head. “I know you’re on your own a lot, kiddo, but you can’t roam the streets by yourself, okay?”

  Megan’s chin drooped to her chest. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Okay.” A motherly smile overrode the look of reprimand on Anna’s face. “Now, are you ready for some fun, or what?”

  Megan nodded with enough enthusiasm to knock her hood back down. With eyes almost as eager as the stray’s, it wasn’t hard to tell why Anna had fallen so hard for her.

  “Sweet.” Anna roped an arm around Megan. “I’ve been looking forwar—” Her wide-eyed stare streamed across the lot. “What’s that?”

  Evan followed her line of sight to the row of cars parked along the fence.

  “Don’t tell me.” She hurried over to an old, white Kia.

  The dread coating her voice set Evan on alert. He grabbed Megan’s hand and hustled after her.

  Anna swiped some kind of ticket off her windshield. Confusion wrinkled her forehead. “Wait, what are they talking about? I just paid for my renewal.”

  Evan took the ticket from her and scanned it. A sixty-buck fine for a past due registration. “Did you put the stickers on?”

  “Yeah, last week.” She motioned to the license plate. “I . . . No, no, no.” She bent for a closer look, then rose and slumped against the quarter panel. “Perfect. Now I have to pay a fine and the fee for new stickers.”

  Evan squatted and rubbed a thumb over the ridges on the plate where someone must’ve used a razor to scrape off the decal.

  She massaged her temples. “Don’t cops have better things to do? And, really. Who steals someone’s registration stickers?”

  “Someone who’s desperate.” People short on money did all kinds of things. She was lucky they hadn’t done worse. “Not everyone’s as kind as you.”

  Megan leaned into Anna’s side as if to add her agreement.

  This close to the ground, mechanical odors reached Evan’s nose. He pressed a palm to the grainy pavement, angled his head under the car, and spotted a few drops of murky liquid glistening near the wheel. A tendon on his neck pulled taut as memories of her mom’s accident hit him in the chest. If someone tampered with Anna’s brakes, so help him.

  He dabbed his fingers in the liquid and brought it to his nose. Just oil. Relief swept in until he noticed a tracker under the wheel well. Michelli’s guys were here. His muscles constricted.

  Anna crinkled the ticket and shoved it into her pocket. “It’s always something.”

  The dejection in her voice pulled Evan up from the asphalt. No way he was about to add to it. He dusted off his hands and glanced over the car. “When was the last time you had this thing in the shop?”

  “I don’t know.” Anna lifted off the panel. “A few months ago, maybe. Why?”

  “I’ll schedule an appointment for tomorrow. Don’t drive it until then.” He made it only two steps before she caught his elbow to stop him.

  “Why? What’s wrong?”

  Smoothing out his face, he turned. “Nothing.”

  She crossed her arms, and he upped his acting skills. “I’m not in town for very long. While I’m here, let me help where I can.”

  A trace of disappointment touched her eyes. Blinking it away, she curled her wavy hair over her shoulder. “Thanks, but tomorrow’s Thanksgiving. I have to drive to my dad’s for his dinner party.”

  “I’ll take you.”

  “That’s sweet, but there’s no need—”

  “It’s not up for discussion.”

  Brows raised, she drew back her shoulders. “Excuse me?”

  That obstinate expression got him every time. “Relax, Bells. I’m just looking out for you. It’s what friends do.” He leaned down to pet the stray. The second he extended a hand, the cat released a low growl and skittered away.

  Anna smirked. “Your bossiness must’ve turned him off.”

  Eyeing her impish grin, Evan stood up and fought one of his own. “Apparently, he must overlook your stubbornness.”

  “Oh, really?” She inched forward in an adorable attempt at intimidation. But instead of backing him away, her penetrating gaze rooted him in place.

  Megan let go of Anna’s hand and tugged his instead. “Can we go now?”

  He broke eye contact with Anna and diverted his focus to Megan. “You got it.”

  Good thing she was there. With how easily a single look from Anna could undo him, he definitely needed the distraction. He scooped Megan up, swung her onto his back, and headed toward his Accord.

  After stopping for coffee, they parked on Randolph Street and strolled toward Michigan Avenue beside bright shop windows decked out in Christmas decorations.

  It was hard to beat Millennium Park in the summer, but the winter months held their own perks. Fewer people being one of them. The lack of activity made it a heck of a lot easier to scan the area. So far, the place looked clean.

  He’d lost the signal on the tracker the night after they’d almost cornered Anna in the park. Either Crater Face had gotten rid of his coat, or someone had gotten rid of him. Something gave Evan the feeling it was the latter. Chances were, Michelli would be sending in someone new for the job.

  Anna sipped her latte and gave a contented sigh. “You know you’re spoiling me with these drinks, right? I don’t need the calories. But, man.” She lifted the cup. “Total guilty pleasure, right here. Why do the things we want most have to be the ones we shouldn’t have?”

  If she only knew. Evan took a swig of his coffee, swallowed the painful truth, and toyed with his cup.

  A soft laugh escaped beside him.

  “What?”

  Anna raised her drink to shield her smile. “Sorry. Your OCD-ness is really cute sometimes.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Following a slow blink, she took his cup and waved a hand up and down it as if issuing evidence into a court case.

  His gaze trailed over the lid and sleeve aligned perfectly with the cup’s logo. He snagged it back. “Hey, nothing wrong with a little symmetry.”

  Another snort-laugh wrinkled her nose.

  “Ooh.” Megan pointed at a playground. “Can we stop here?”

  “You betcha.” Anna squatted to her level and set her coffee down. “You have gloves?”

  When Megan shook her head, Anna pulled out a pair of knit ones from her own pockets. “Here.” She tugged the fingerless glove part on and flipped the monkey-patterned mitten part over them. “Now you’ll be th
e coolest kid out there.” With a wink, she sent Megan off to the miniature rock wall and Evan’s heart up his throat again.

  He cradled his warm fingers around Anna’s cold ones. “Sure you don’t need those?”

  She put on her game face. “I’m tough.”

  More than she probably gave herself credit for. If he learned how to love half as selflessly as she did, maybe he’d find a way to make up for the pain he’d caused Mom.

  He released Anna’s hands and started toward a bench on the border of the playground.

  Anna’s arm grazed his as they ambled together. “Something on your mind?”

  “You could say that.”

  “Worried about your mom?”

  Evan gaped at her. It was like she operated with night vision goggles on, nothing hindering her from seeing straight to the heart of things.

  The bench’s cold slats met the back of his jeans. “I spoke to the doctor this morning. She’s doing okay, but it’s hard to know what her recovery will look like.”

  “I’m sure having you home is a big encouragement to her.” Anna sat beside him.

  He twisted the lid on his cup back and forth. “She doesn’t know I’m here.”

  “What?” Her coat scratched against the bench. “What do you mean?”

  “I haven’t spoken to her yet.” He’d stayed outside Mom’s hospital room. Went in only when she was asleep. He couldn’t face her any more than he could face the confusion in Anna’s expression right now. Layers of regret overlapped each other and propelled him back up from the bench and into a pace.

  “Before I left, I opened a bank account for her. I’ve been wiring money ever since I got my first check from the army.” He rolled a twig on the ground with his Skecher. “I thought a few years of help would be enough to get her away from my dad.”

  Comprehension tinted Anna’s eyes, questions welling up right behind it.

  Please don’t ask.

  She stared at the turf and bit her lip. “Is that why you left?”

  A long exhale expanded a puff of warm breath into the air. “Yes.” One part. He couldn’t look at her, or she’d see the rest. “I had promises to keep.”